Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
Tai
Irecognize that arch. This is the village. The village.
“This place is in bad shape,” Bri says, observing the ruins.
I wasn’t sure at first. I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. But the closer we got, the more obvious it became that this is where it all went down six years ago.
I might as well tell her. Now that she’s seen the destruction I caused firsthand.
Bri catches my grimace. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Let’s see what we can find.” I don’t feel fine. I feel very far from fine.
“You don’t seem fine,” she says under her breath.
I push through the mental block that has kept my past secured away. I am going to tell her.
“This is the village I destroyed before I got caught.” I look away, afraid to meet her eye. “I did this. It’s my fault.”
It’s one thing for her to hear about what happened. Seeing it is a totally different story. It’s so much more real when you can see the destruction with your own eyes. I never saw the aftermath. I was on my way to j’Tilak before the fire was even out.
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.” My words hang in the air. I don’t know what else to say.
“If I were in your position right now, you know what I would want to hear?” she asks.
“What?”
Please don’t let it be some toxic positivity diminishing the fucked-up thing I did back then. Or some pompous statement about how “everything happens for a reason.”
Bri steps up next to me and slips her hand into mine, “The only thing I’d want to hear,” she says softly, “is, ‘I’m here. You’re not alone.’”
The sunbaked clay walls surrounding the village have crumbled in up-and-down zigzagging formations.
Roofs are caved in. Doors and windows hang from broken hinges.
Sand has blown in, piling up against the remaining structures.
We let Daisy loose instead of locking her up in the small sty.
It doesn’t feel right to stick her in there without anything for her to eat or drink.
Every detail is a stark reminder of that day.
“Hello?” Bri’s voice is absorbed by the thick brown adobe as she wanders through the space between the small homes.
It’s empty here and has been for a while.
We wind our way through the abandoned buildings, peeking into broken windows or doors left open in a hurry. Each home seems to have been cleared out of any supplies, leaving nothing behind.
“Holy fucking shitballs!” Bri says from around a corner.
I can’t tell if it is a good or bad shitballs, so I run to her, ready for anything.
Bri disappears into a fully intact structure that has somehow managed to survive.
The door opens up to what was once a bathhouse.
The colorful tile walls are muted from a thick layer of dust. The open shower room has three stalls on each wall.
She pulls off her clothes and kicks away her shoes.
I spin away to avert my gaze. But it’s too late.
I saw the perfect curve of her back to her ass.
I can’t tell if she wants me in there with her or not. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I have lost track of where she and I stand with each other.
“I’ll um…give you some privacy.”
“Go. Stay. Whatever. I’ve got to get this sweat and sand off me.”
What does she mean? Does she want me to stay? I need to get my head on straight.
At the doorway, I pause, considering my next move. Go? Stay? I look back and the door to her stall is wide open. Water pours down her head and body. Her eyes are closed, and a slight smile brightens her face. She looks like she’s in heaven.
Like any other male in this situation, I put as much distance between myself and the gorgeous naked and wet woman. If she wanted me in there, she would have said something.
Every part of me wants to be near her. It kills me to not know if she feels the same. If everything goes to plan, we will be leaving soon, and I don’t know whether we’ll be in each other’s lives or not.
I drag myself away and head into the neighboring building to distract myself from the battle waging in my head. If I keep my focus on getting home, I won’t have time to dwell on our complicated relationship, if you could even call it that.
The desert is doing its best to reclaim the territory. Bri was right. This place is in rough condition. In a few more years, it might be completely buried by sand.
Across the way, a building with an intact roof and solid walls stands out like a beacon.
It takes multiple attempts at slamming my full weight against the door to get it open.
The rusted metal hinges fight me every inch of the way.
Cabinets line the walls of the square room.
I wipe away a layer of grime from the windows, letting enough light in to see what sits in the far corner of the room.
A comms system.
I brush off a thick layer of dust and expose the flat, shiny surface of the control panel. I tap the touch screen to turn it on.
Nothing.
I run my finger along the edge of the flat panel, looking for the reboot switch. I toggle it back and forth a few times. Still nothing.
I pull the access panel loose and set it aside, then lower myself to the floor and slide under the desk. Sand trickles down as I reach up into the exposed wiring and start sorting through the mess.
This is going to take a while.
I picture Bri stepping out of the shower and finding out help is already on the way. That image alone makes me move faster. The work is tedious. Tangled up wires and fragile circuit boards, but I don't mind it. Not for her.